Walking mother

My mother can't ride a bike, whether it's the simplest bicycle or the popular electric car, let alone drive a motorcycle and a car. My mother is just an ordinary peasant woman who needs to walk around.

I remember when I was a child, my mother carried me on my back, talking and laughing all the way from the country road to my grandmother's house. Although it's only over an hour's journey, it's a grand and happy journey for me, and I can't do it without my mother's company. When I was able to walk to my grandmother's house alone, I suddenly felt that the road was not long. After learning to ride a bike when I was young, the road became a bit short, and it was hard and boring to watch my mother walk.

As far as I can remember, the narrow path from home to the field is the one my mother walked the most, because there is cultivation, sowing, weeding and harvest, and there is hope for the whole family whether it is sunrise or rain. Year after year, day after day, my mother walked from the village to the field with a hoe after eating every morning. Although it is only four or five miles, she has worn out her shoes and toes. Time has passed, her youth has passed, and her face is getting old. ...

When I was in middle school, I was proud of my parents. They always wanted me to go to college. At that time, the farthest way my mother walked was probably to deliver meals to me at the school in the town. Because my family is poor, I can't bring enough living expenses to school like other students, so my mother sends me meals every day. I didn't think so at first, but when some classmates laughed at my mother's rags and short stature, I gradually felt a kind of blame in my heart. I no longer like her to send me meals, and sometimes I lose my temper with her willfully. She still made the bed and washed clothes for me without complaining, and didn't leave until everything was ready. Looking at her distant back, tears swirled in her eyes and guilt hit her chest.

Dreams and hopes may not be able to resist the stranding of the boat of fate. When I was admitted to a listed key high school with excellent results, when I thought about the future with gratitude, when I saw the relief in my mother's eyes, a serious illness changed my life direction. At the end of the 20th century, I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. Pain and high fever forced me to give up my studies and rest at home. At that time, my life was full of darkness, and my embarrassed family was poorer. Mother is in poor health. In order to earn more medical expenses, she often went to the town to pick up garbage after busy farm work and housework, until one or two in the morning, her temples turned pale, her smile wrinkled and her eyes were cloudy. Looking at her thin body carrying a snakeskin bag in the middle of the night, which is filled with waste materials bigger than her body, I shed tears on the pillow.

As for illness, I think the most terrible thing is mental emptiness. When a person can only lie in bed all day, or even spend his daily life in bed, it is not only the consumption of his family, but also the torture of himself. Fortunately, my mother has always been my strong arm and my shelter from the wind. I often think of her kindness to me in those years in my hospital bed.

In the summer vacation of the second grade of primary school, my friends and I played in the sun for a long time before going home. We felt dizzy and fell asleep in bed. When my mother came back, I found that I was sleeping soundly under the thick quilt. When she touched my forehead, it was very hot It was summer, and there was no air conditioning in the countryside, but I fell asleep under a quilt. According to my mother later, she panicked and quickly took me to the hospital for an injection. The doctor said I had a summer fever. I finally woke up after the injection, but my left face was swollen and my speech hurt. This disease is called "big mouth" in rural areas, and later it gradually became sensible, knowing that it is mumps, commonly known as mumps, which is very contagious. At that time, the doctor suggested that I be kept alone in my room for isolation treatment, but my mother insisted on taking care of myself. Because my cheeks are inflamed, I can't open my mouth and I can only barely drink porridge. She is worried that it is bad for her health to drink porridge all the time. Every morning, she goes to the tofu brain at the top of the town, and often goes fishing in the river to make soup for me. She has never fished, and she has to ask the children in the village to make the villagers laugh. After a period of treatment, I still didn't get well until the beginning of school. My mother went to school to ask for leave and begged the teacher to make up lessons at home. Although the teacher was afraid of being infected and repeatedly shirked it, she finally couldn't help wearing a mask and came to my house.

The second time was when I was in the sixth grade of primary school. I got a disease called "paronychia". The symptom is purulent bleeding of two toenails. When I put on socks, I will stick to my toes. I had to take them off carefully. Even so, it still hurts like hell. Because the toenails are embedded in the meat, the wound will continue to deteriorate. The only treatment is to remove the toenails and apply anti-inflammatory drugs. Although local anesthetic was used in the operation, the terrible pain came up less than half an hour after the nail was pulled out. It's really painful and unforgettable! There is no way out. I eat and drink Lazar in my room every day, and my mother pours the toilet for me. You need a dressing change and an injection. She carries me back to and from the hospital and home every day. She is so thin, so thin, and she is often too tired to breathe. I saw glittering and translucent sweat falling from her forehead and dust rolling down her face.

The third illness was in the first year of high school. I suddenly had a stomachache during class and was taken to the hospital by my teachers and classmates. I was diagnosed with appendicitis. Mother rushed to the city from the countryside dozens of miles away. For days and nights, she stayed by my bed with blood in her eyes. Thanks to her careful care, my stomach didn't hurt without surgery.

From June, 5438 to October, 2002, I didn't take medicine. I lay in bed and started to have a fever. Illness pushed me to the abyss of pain. Dad said angrily, "I stopped taking medicine for a few days, and then I got sick again." You always need married with children to feel at ease! "My mother bought me a medicine called tripterygium wilfordii tablets, so I turned my face away from her-my heart has been reduced to ashes and can't be burned any more. Mother put the medicine on the table and left very sadly. In the middle of the night, I woke up from a nightmare and reached for the medicine on the table. My hands were not flexible, and the medicine bottle fell to the ground, 100 more than a few small pale yellow pills rolled all over the floor. I was afraid to wake my father, so I wanted to get out of bed and pick it up myself. I accidentally fell out of bed and my knees were covered with blood. I knelt on the cold concrete floor and picked up the medicine one by one with tears in my eyes. Despair cast a strong net in my heart. Farewell, mother; Farewell, dad; Farewell ... I stood on the edge of the world with a smile and put the blade on my left wrist. ...

It was my mother who saved me. She hugged me and cried, "Son, mom doesn't want you, so why don't you want your mom?" Never do anything stupid again. ""Mom-"I burst into tears. Dad said at a side: "If you want to die, don't get half dead. Do you know how much it cost this time? "Just give you a blood transfusion will be thousands, your mother also took her own blood ..."

In the dark, my mother came to my room with clothes and an oil lamp to cover me with a quilt. She stood at the door looking at me and refused to leave. I know she's afraid something will happen to me. I opened my eyes and said, "mom, go to rest." I won't do anything sorry for you again. "

You can't boil a pot at home. I haven't seen my mother for days, and people say she can't stand running around. About a week later, in the evening, a reporter came to interview and brought me a newspaper from the other day. It turns out that my mother went to Wuhan for help for me. Wuhan is more than 400 miles away from my home, 30 yuan. In order to save money, my mother carried five steamed buns. When you are thirsty, ask the villagers on the roadside for saliva. Sleep on the side of the road for a while when you are sleepy. She stayed in the farmhouse when it was dark. Her shoes were worn out, her clothes were scratched, her hair was messy, and her lips were chapped and bleeding from eating too much steamed bread. She walked for six days and nights and finally arrived in Wuhan. Six days and six nights, the simplest and most primitive walk, regardless of leg fatigue, all the way to a strange city, unaccompanied. ...

The good people in Wuhan donated money and medicine to me, which is still a drop in the bucket for my illness.

……

Later, I went out begging without telling my parents. They didn't know what I was doing outside until reporters appeared ... Later, I published a novel based on my wandering experience, which didn't change my fate. My mother still walks, not taking high-end transportation, not even taking a car. I am so incompetent and helpless that I have not given simple happiness to my parents and family in my thirties. Now I am in Xiamen. My leg is disabled due to illness and my femoral head is necrotic. I can't squat down and climb the stairs. It is difficult to travel, find a job and take care of yourself. But to survive, I have to buy milk powder for my children. I stood on the street with my deformed leg on crutches and shouted. Sometimes I can't breathe, sometimes I almost pass out, and I'm under great pressure. Fortunately, my mother came from Hubei to help me sell it. Every day she says, "Hello, this is a book written by my son. Would you like to have a look?" And she also suffered from supercilious look, cynicism and doubt. Some people say that she is a liar, while others help her. Beautiful Xiamen, Xiamen people are excellent in quality and full of love. Mother is harvesting love every day. I think if there is no love, we will be equally desperate.

My mother, who is nearly sixty years old, has a wrinkled forehead and her eyes are clouded by cataracts. She comes from the countryside, gaunt and full of vicissitudes, walking in the bustling city with rolling wheels. She has never been in a car, plane, high-end office building, KFC or McDonald's. She trudged and worked hard. Even if there were few people at night and it rained heavily, she went out to sell books without complaint every day.

Mom still can't ride a bike. Every day, she walks in the streets of Xiamen with her schoolbag on her back. Her figure is so small, but so huge, like a giant umbrella, holding up a sky for me.

Xia Haibo, written on Mother's Day 20 14, Forbidden City Road, Xiamen.